


Paper Cut

by hungrytiger



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-15
Updated: 2010-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 02:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungrytiger/pseuds/hungrytiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasuke may have returned to the Leaf, but for Sakura he's further than he ever was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Cut

Sometimes, she feels, that even though Sasuke's here, even though Sakura could reach out and physically touch him, it is more like-

Like reading correspondence.

That's what its like instead of talking to someone right there.

She relies on faces so much thorugh out the day. That smallest smile or a gleam in the eyes that speak to her. But not him. He is always staring at nothing, blind in both literal and non-literal ways. She's heard that people are more confessional and open in letters. That people in letters are, in some way, always talking to themselves as much as anybody else. For herself, that's never been the case. There's always an inner-editor thinking_ say this, don't mention that, is the grammar right?_ This is especially true when writing to her mother, whose no shinobi. You write only what you want someone to hear.

Sasuke is also familiar with the habit of acting a part. He's nothing but words that mean nothing some days, some months even. Entire months have gone by since he-

Since he was welcomed back into Konoha and _resigned_ as a ninja (she refuses to think of it any other way, even if the Hokage is her teacher, damnit.). One day, she thinks, she will be trusted enough again, loved enough again, to touch him. And when that day comes she half-imagines it will be enough only for the Small- fingers sliding against each other but never grabbing hold, shoulders bumping, nothing more, nothing further than that- and she will feel against her own skin, not other skin, but paper. Course, rough paper and a thousand words unsaid.


End file.
